


edward cullen

by VampireGuardDogs



Series: twilight headcanons - individuals [4]
Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-06 23:05:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireGuardDogs/pseuds/VampireGuardDogs
Summary: a series of headcanons about edward cullen





	1. cooking

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! Come talk to me on Tumblr under the username vampireguarddogs and to see a bunch more Twilight content, including writing I don't post here and moodboards! I also accept writing requests for your favorite ship, character, or group. I love any kind of message, long or short, about my work or anything! Have a great day. :)

so it’s canon that he learned to cook from watching the food network right? he started watching for the “white lady teaches you to cook shows” but then an episode of chopped started and he got absolutely HOOKED on the competition shows. chopped is his favorite, and rosalie loves chopped junior. they make the whole family watch.

edward is vaguely frightened of cutthroat kitchen, but emmett is trying to figure out if there’s a way he can go on that show without revealing their disguise. carlisle’s has to intercept his application three times. the entire family goes HAM watching guy’s grocery games.

emmett and esme start a list of places to visit from diners, drive-ins, and dives, and are incredibly bitter whenever someone reminds them they can’t eat. emmett explains that  
they’re going for the experience and anyone who doesn’t support this can leave him and his mom ALONE.

he can’t actually taste the food, so he generally goes by smell for the taste. he’s constantly worried he’s not seasoning it enough, or seasoning it too much.

he constantly practiced cooking every time he wasn’t with bella, wanting to surprise her with a home cooked meal one night. he enlists esme, carlisle, and alice for help and advice. any good he makes he donates to the homeless shelter.

seth is also forever willing to come over and taste literally anything edward cooks.

eventually, edward invites bella over for the meal. he’s really nervous about it, because he knows she’s a really good cook (he’s so proud) and he really wants to impress her.

she loves the meal and they begin cooking together, with bella helping edward learn how to improve food without tasting it. bella loves bringing the food home to charlie. edward just loves spending more time with bella, watching her do something she loves.


	2. Swimming With Mom

Every summer, the Masen family would travel out of the city for a month to a summer home they had on Lake Michigan. Mother, father, and son would make the trip, if only to get away from the city air for a little while. Mr. Masen would usually have to bring work with him, if he wasn’t called back to the city on a case. 

As such, it usually ended up just being Edward and his mother spending the long summer days together. They would sleep in, until the sun shining through the windows onto their faces woke them up. They would cook and eat breakfast together, until it was just too pretty outside to stay inside any longer. 

Their home allowed for a variety of outdoor activities, and Edward loved to have his mother chase him around the house, through the backyard and up into the trees. She taught him how to climb them almost as soon as he could walk, happily lifting him up until he was tall enough to reach the branches on his own. 

They sat in the grass and read to each other; Edward first learned to read from a pictures book sitting in his mother’s lap outside in the wildflowers. She would tell him stories: some made up, some not. She loved to tell stories about how her and his father met, how they fell in love, about the rest of their family. She never ran out of stories to tell, and Edward hung on her every word. When he got older, he would tell her stories he had made up.

On rainy days, they would sit inside the house and read all day. She loved to cook and bake, and happily taught him some of her favorite recipes. The house would be full of the scent of fresh-baked cookies and brownies; mother and son sitting on the kitchen floor, eating leftover batter and dough out of the bowls. Sometimes, they would run in the rain   
for hours, dancing and singing together.

Above all, Edward’s favorite activity to do every summer was swim. Their house existed right on the edge of the lake. At night, he fell asleep to the sound of the waves hitting the shore. He had been playing in the water as long as he could remember; some of his earliest memories are from his mother wading through the shallow waters with him in her arms.

She began teaching him to swim as soon as she was able, supporting his torso with her hands as he kicked and punched at the water. He loved blowing bubbles in the water as he swam, giggling as they popped all over the surface of the water. His mom would laugh along, blowing the bubbles right back at him. 

As he aged, he was able to swim on his own more and more. They started in the shallower edges of the lake, Edward waiting in until only his head would poke above the water. He would slowly move his arms and legs, letting himself drift from side to side, always making sure he was still able to touch the lake floor. Elizabeth stayed right by his side, making sure he was always safe in the water. He began to grow more comfortable in his skills, slowly wading out further and further, and staying out for longer periods of time. When he was able, he loved being able to dive under the water and look all around him, seeing how different everything appeared when he was seeing it through water. 

They could spend all day in the water, only coming out when the sun dipped below the treeline and their fingers were long since wrinkly. There was so much they could to in the water: sing songs back and forth together, write simple melodies, talk and talk, play different games like marco polo or tag, skipping rocks, looking for things at the bottom of the lake, competitions of who could swim the furthest (Elizabeth won these) or hold their breath the longest (Edward was the victor here). They loved to chase each other through the water, diving under the surface and splashing away. They never ran out of things to do.

The older he got, the more time he wanted to spend by the water. Sometimes, he would join his mother in their old games and fun in the water. Other times, he simply liked to sit with his feet in the water, reading or writing away. She would always sit with him, no matter what he was doing. They may talk intermittently, but never about too much or for too long. He preferred to lose himself in his books, strategizing for the war he dreamed of fighting in. She would bury her toes in the sand, playing at the edge of the water, remembering and missing the days when she wasn’t the only playing.


	3. Nature

Growing up in the city, Edward spent most of his time surrounded by buildings and other people. He didn’t have much chance to spend time in nature, save for this trips their family would make in the summer to their lake house, and whenever his mother would take him to the nearby park.

Edward lived for these trips. They would go at least a week, often more if the weather allowed it. Of course to Edward, any weather allowed it. Regardless of how windy or hot it was, if the snow on the ground was an inch thick, he wanted to go. His mother often relented, buddeling him up as much as needed in thick winter coats just to spend a few hours in the sunshine.

There wasn’t much to the park - a small climbing structure made of wood, a few slides, and a small swing set. This was fine with Edward - he didn’t find too much joy in playing on these structures. He would climb a bit, going down the slides a few times, before quickly going on the swings, flying high as he could before jumping off. 

This wasn’t why little Edward loved the park so much. He had fun on these toys, these games built here for all the kids that would come through, but he found real joy in exploring the small woods that bordered the park. This worried Elizabeth at first; she wasn’t sure if it was safe to play here. But, refusing to disappoint him, she allowed it, carefully following behind him as he explored, ducking between the trees, her eyes searching the area around them for any conceivable danger. But she never found one, and so she allowed him to continue his exploration game.

He would weave through the various trees, examining each part of them and looking for patterns in the rough bark that covered them. He tried to climb them a few times, but didn’t find much success. He preferred to stay firmly on the ground, anyway. It was safer down there. He traced their roots on the ground, studying where they disappeared under the dirt. 

Edward liked to dig in the dirt throughout the woods, excited at the different bugs and occasional random object or rock he could find buried. He kept most of it, filling his pockets with anything he found; he had a growing collection in a box in his room at home. He delighted in showing each new discovery to his mother; pointing out the different colors in the rocks. 

She began bringing books about the local plant life to the park with them, using the time to teach him about the world around him. She taught him how to identify the different plants, and how to avoid the ones that could cause him harm. His curiosity for this new information never ceased; he loved finding the different plants around him and pointing them out by name. They made it into a game: she would give him a plant, and he would have to show it to her; a scavenger hunt of sorts.

Whenever they left the city, which was at least once a summer, Edward loved to play outdoors. He could hardly be bothered to come inside even to eat; his mother often had to bring him food wherever he played. He could be found in the water of the lake, exploring around the few trees in their backyard, reading against the trees in their front yard on hotter days. His scavenger hunt games continued at the lakehouse; he would dig through the sand, looking for different shells and rocks to add to his collection at their house in the city. He wouldn’t take too much from here, preferring to leave it for another day.

He loved playing in the water the most; he had been coming to the lake all his life and had been in the water from their first trip here, before he could even walk. He could play in the water for hours, swimming around, practicing holding his breath, seeing what he could find on the lake floor, dropping rocks to let them sink and then picking them off of the lake’s sandy bottom. He played his games for hours, until his fingers and toes were wrinkly and the sun was low in the sky, signaling the end of another day outside.


	4. Edward's Music

Edward’s “thing,” throughout the years, had always been music. He could play a bunch of different instruments, although his favorite was the piano. He loved to play the different instruments, but what he loved even more was listening to music.

It didn’t matter what kind; he liked it all. His collection ranged from classical to punk to blues to classic rock to electronic to pop, and everything in between. He didn’t have a favorite genre; it always depending on his mood. Classical was preferred if he was trying to concentrate on something; the background noise of the music helped drown out the thoughts of others. It was easier to focus that way. He preferred punk music when he as feeling upset; the sounds of the instruments matched his mood. He listened to a lot of pop when he was happy; listening to it as he danced around his room, humming along to the fun melodies.

Music was almost always playing around him. Sometimes he would lie or sit on his couch or somewhere else, letting the music wash over him as he tuned out everything except the lyrics and melodies. Sometime sit was more like background noise, while he was reading or studying. He kept his earphones in at as often as he could, always keeping his hair just long enough so teachers couldn’t see them. Many days, it was the only thing that got him through the mind-numbing monotony.

He kept his music in whatever form was popular for the period it was from. His largest collection was from his records. He had rebought many that he had grown up listening to once he had the ability, all the records that his parents played around the house. He had a vintage record player to listen to them; he had fixed it over the years as needed so it always ran like new. He still liked to buy vinyls, spending time scouring the racks at used stores, leaving with his arms full.

Cassette tapes started becoming more common during the 60s, so he switched to buying those more often. He didn’t like them as much, but he appreciated that they were smaller and therefore, more portable. He had a high-quality player in his room for them, often preferring to use it if he was in the house. He had a smaller, portable one that he used when he couldn’t be in the house anymore for whatever reason; Alice made him a case for it that could hold the player and multiple backup tapes, so he could spend a lot of time walking around.

His favorite media was CDs though, which he started using in the 80s. He didn’t get much new music during this period though, not liking it as much. He kept building his overall collection though, adding new records, tapes, and CDs whenever he could. He kept most in his room, although a bunch were in his car, and he switched those around almost daily. 

He switched to digital collections and streaming when the options arose for the ease of it, but kept getting physical copies as well. His favorite part of this was how easy it was to compile new playlists; he made new ones every day for whatever mood he was in, anything he had witnessed that day, all of the songs that he felt would sound good together, or matched a certain thing. His favorite thing to do was to make playlists for people, based on what he knew about them and what kind of music they liked.  
He barely paid attention to genre when looking for new music; it didn’t matter. Genre didn’t determine if he liked an artist or band or not. He truly listened to anything he could get his hands on; his shelves showed a wide range of music.

The only time he wasn’t listening to music was when he was playing it. He practiced the piano daily, transcribing whatever songs were currently stuck in his head, often influenced by the thoughts of those around him. 

He also used the time to write new songs. Any he was trying to write were always in his head, whether he was near an instrument or not. He had notebooks full of lyrics and notes, hastily scribbled whenever they popped into his head. He always had a notebook and pen with him, ready to write down whatever song was in his head.


End file.
